Phone Box
Things are nice, for a while. Ages, reallyAudrey seems committed to her counseling, and the pressure Percy’s family is putting on their family seems to be working. She hasn’t so much as risen her voice at Percy .
They renew their relationship, going out on date nights to museums and shows, even the beach despite the cold weather as winter passes. They get a rare blizzard.
Their nights are spent cozy in front of the fire, switching between reading and watching the silly muggle shows they both enjoy, all wrapped up in cozy blankets with hot chocolate. Things relax. Audrey doesn’t do anything at all, and they only argue a few times without any heat. Winter becomes spring, and before he knows it, it’s almost summer. Things are good.
Then it’s little things. Percy and Audrey argue about Lucy and she screams at him. They argue about finances and he’s nursing bruises. She gets home late and plastered, and it’s his fault.
and life goes on. Percy learns how to deal with it. He loves his wife, but more importantly he loves his kids. They need a stable home.
One late afternoon, Percy is at the office, and he gets a knock at his door.
“Come in!” Percy says, not looking up from her paperwork. It’s Seamus, looking nervous and holding a muggle telephone. Percy frowns- he knows the office invested in one awhile back, but he’s never actually seen it. It’s cordless, which is odd. It must be high-end.
“Percy, your wife is on the line.” Seamus says, his voice a bit too strained for it to feel casual. Percy’s stomach drops out from under him. Had something happened to one of the girls?
He takes the phone from his coworker and dismisses him. When the door is shut, Percy casts a silencing spell and raises it to his ear.
“Audrey?” he asks into it.
"Percy!" The voice on the other end is slurred, high-pitched, and shaky.
"Where the hell are you?”
Percy swallows a lump in his throat. She sounds… drunk. He checks his watch. It’s barely four.
“Audrey, what’s going on? What do you mean? I’m at work.”
“Oh, I know exactly where you are!” she snaps. “And I know exactly where you aren’t, too. You’re not here, are you? You’re never here. You’re never around when I need you.” Her voice cracks with frustration.
“Did you go to work today, Audrey?” he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose, hoping that the pounding headache that is about to settle between his eyes will fade if he squeezes tight enough.
“I called out,” she slurs. “Why can’t you ever be here when I need you?”
"Audrey, I can’t just leave work whenever you call. I have a job."
“A job!” she repeats, her tone mocking. “You call it a job. It’s an excuse. That’s all you’re doing—hiding behind your stupid desk.”
A thought occurs to him; Audrey was the one who was supposed to pick up the girls from school today. He can’t imagine she’s done it yet, and there’s no way in Hades he’s going to let her drive.
“Where are you?”
“Home you son of bitch, where else would I be?”
He strains his ears, listening carefully for the sounds of his children, but there’s none. He sighs into the phone.
“Audrey- just get some rest, okay? I’ll be home soon.”
Before she can reply, he hands up. Then at once he dials the school.
“London Primary School, this is Maureen, how can I help you?”
He licks his lips. “Hello. This is Percy Weasley- my wife was supposed to-,”
“Mr. Weasley! I was just about to call you. Your wife hasn’t picked up your children yet.”
Percy winces. “Yes, she was uh, delayed at work. I’m on my way now.”
“Okay. We’ll keep them in the office. See you soon!”
Maureen from London Primary hangs up first. Percy feels an odd numbness rush through him- like waves of nothingness that somehow prickle every pore of his skin. Audrey had forgotten their children. She had forgotten to pick them up from school because she was too drunk.
He places his head in his hands, trying to fight back tears. Then, he calls Seamus, hands the phone back to him and tell him he will be leaving early due to a family emergency.
He doesn’t miss Seamus’s pitying look as he walks out the door.
Percy gets to the school in record time. If anyone at the school would ask, he’d say the traffic wasn’t bad. But all he did was apparate and wait about five minutes- anything shorter than that and it’d be suspicious. He walks up to the office. The woman at the desk spots his red hair.
“Percy Weasley?”
“Yes.” He says, passing over his muggle ID card. She takes the ID and writes down the number, comparing it to the emergency contacts and list of people who are able to pick up his children- this was apparently a fear of muggle parents- having a stranger pick up their children from school, whisking them away never to be seen again. Percy had never thought that would be a valid fear until right about now.
She hands his ID back to him and calls someone on a small black box he’s never seen before, and then the door to the back is opening and the girls are barreling toward him. Lucy’s got dried tears on her face as she throws herself into his arms.
“Daddy!” she cries. Percy bends down and scoops her up into his arm, ignoring the twinge in his back. She’s much too big for him to hold her like this at nearly eleven, but he doesn’t care right now. Molly glues herself to his leg.
“We thought you forgot us!” Lucy exclaims, burying her face in his shoulder. He rubs her back comfortingly.
“What? I could never forget about you too. Mum’s just been given a long assignment and ask me to pick you up instead. I’m sorry to have worried you.”
Lucy sniffles into his shoulder but doesn’t say anything, so he rubs a hand through Molly’s hair, takes her hand and walks out of the school office and into the street.
They’re close enough to their home that they often walk to and from school- it’s a few blocks away, but as they near the house he slows. Audrey would surely still be home, probably still awake and drinking. He can’t bring the girls there- she’s clearly already upset.
He thinks about going to the Burrow, but he’s not sure he can face his family right now. He can imagine the look on his mother’s face if he shows up unannounced, holding two girls whose faces are dried with tears. She’d never let them leave. He’s not exactly on speaking terms with Penelope, either…
He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. His watch beeps and he looks down at it- he had made plans to see Oliver today after work before heading home. He would need to let him know.
He spies a muggle phone box, something he’s familiar with since they use them for travel to the Ministry in some places, and sets Lucy down .
“What’re you doing, Dad?” Molly asks, eyeing the box.
“I need to call someone quickly, love. Wait here with your sister, please.”
Molly nods, solemn, and takes Lucy’s hand in hers. They plop down onto the curb, unbothered by the mud there. Percy groans thinking of how difficult it’ll be to get the stains out, eve with magic. He fumbles in pocket, trying to find some muggle coins, but only is able to produce a paperclip.
He goes into the phone box and shuts the door behind him. He palms the paperclip and windlessly transfigures it into a muggle coin. He puts it into the slot and dials Oliver’s number by heart- Percy was the one who had convinced him to get a muggle phone. They had spent an afternoon shopping for one of those mobile ones, the big, blocky ones that had no cord, but somehow worked anyway.
It rings and rings, and for a long moment Percy is terrified Oliver won’t pick up, but then-,
“Hello?”
“Oliver!” Percy says, unsuccessfully hiding the relief that wash through him. “It’s Percy. Percy Weasley.”
There’s a huff of laughter.
“I know, Percy Weasley. What’s up?”
Percy bites his lower lip, It’s getting chapped in the winter breeze.
“I, uh, I must cancel today. Audrey’s been- uh, well it’s complicated.” He cringes at how pathetic he sounds.
“Are you okay? Where are you calling from? I don’t recognize the number.”
Percy swallows. “A phone box. I don’t want to go inside with her like-, right. So, uh, next time.” He fumbles and stumbles over his words like a baby deer learning to walk. He feels quite stupid.
“Percy,” Oliver says suddenly. “You sound scared to go home tonight.”
“I, - I just-…” Percy chokes on his words. Was he scared? Maybe.
“Would you like to sleep over at my house?"
“I have the girls.”
“Bring them.”
“Oliver I can’t-,”
“You probably don’t want to go to the Burrow, right?”
Percy winces. “Right.”
“-and you don’t want to go home. Come around to mine, will you? I’ve got a second bedroom I don’t use at all and the number of a good takeaway place.”
Percy looks through the glass of the phone booth to look at the girls, who are both sitting quietly on the curb. Molly’s braiding Lucy’s hair. He thinks about the drunken phone call, how angry Audrey had been… what if something happened to one of the girls?
They had been so upset when their mother hadn’t picked them up. What if Percy went home and she got angry again and started to throw things? What if he couldn’t keep the girls safe?
He could always go to a hotel, but Audrey would not doubt see the amount spent from their joint account and figure out something was wrong…
“Okay.” He says softly into the phone. “We’re on the way.”
He arrives at Oliver’s place about thirty minutes later. It’s a bit of a walk with two children, but Percy can see Oliver clearing it in about ten minutes like he told Percy.
The house he lives in is terraced, connected by one wall to another. Percy is secretly impressed- this is posh area. Although with Oliver being a well-known Quidditch player, he’s sure Oliver can afford it. The bricked house is hues of red and slotted white, with a black terraced railing on the front overlooking the street The balcony is covered with plants.
Percy takes the girls by the hand steps up the bricked steps to the door. There’s a polished brass knocker and a subtle wreath of ivy wrapped around the frame of it. Percy reaches for the knocker and gives it a firm tap. If he strains, he can hear the distinct echo through the hollow hallway beyond.
The door swings open, revealing Oliver with his trademark grin. He’s dressed casually, in grey sweats and a Puddlemere sweater. When he sees Percy, he gives him a toothy grin.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he says, stepping aside. His voice is warm. Percy nods in greeting and Oliver holds the door opens for all of them while he steps in.
“You’re Daddy’s tall friend!” Molly says suddenly, lookin up at Oliver. Percy winces, but Oliver throws his head back in laughter, his eyes twinkling a bit with amusement.
“Yes, I am. Oliver, remember?”
“Oliver Wood?” Lucy says with a frown, and then her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “From Puddlemere?!”
“The very one.” Oliver says with a nod. Lucy’s jaw drops.
“You’ve met him before, love.” Percy says gently.
“I didn’t know he was on Puddlemere! That’s my favorite team!”
Percy blinks. He hadn’t known that. “They are?”
“Yeah. She never shuts up about them.” Molly grumbles, crossing her arms. Lucy rolls her eyes, and then looks back at Oliver.
“I can’t believe you know Daddy.”
Percy scoffs. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Lucy shrugs. “Oliver Wood is so cool and you’re-,”
“Don’t finish that.” Percy interrupts dryly.
Oliver is grinning when he claps his hands. “Well, how about a grand tour? Then after, I can show you some play we’re working on, Lucy.”
The first room they just stepped into is the entryway, which Percy thinks immediately gives a sense of Oliver’s personality—bright and grounded. The walls are painted in a soft, light gray, contrasting beautifully with the rich oak wood of the floors. A large fern sits in the corner, its fronds lush and vibrant, and a few small potted succulents lined the console table by the door. The air smells faintly of earth and greenery, as if every corner of this home has been infused with life.
“Sorry for the plants,” Oliver chuckles, noticing Percy’s gaze on the greenery. “I’ve become a bit of a fanatic since moving in. We travel too much for me to have a pet, so plants it is.”
Percy smiles, noticing the carefully chosen plants in every corner. He recognizes a few- they weren’t just ornamental; and each one seemed thoughtfully placed, almost as though it had a purpose beyond simple decoration.
He leads Percy and the twins through a hallway, and they enter the living room.
The space is spacious and airy, with windows that are opened to a breathtaking view of London’s streets. A large, deep green ivy plant hangs from a ceiling hook, its trailing vines cascading down in an elegant display . On the coffee table, a few more plants, some ferns and a cactus, sat neatly arranged. There’s a deep leather sofas, dark mahogany bookshelves, and an old brass Quidditch trophy on a pedestal tucked into the corner. If it had been anyone else, it would have felt almost stuffy, but because it was Oliver it felt rather inviting.
“This is where I spend most of my time when I’m not on the pitch or training,” Oliver says, gesturing to the room with a fond smile. “It’s a good place to relax, or to get lost in my books.”
Percy had never thought Oliver would be a book person in the first place.
They move on to the dining area, which was open to the living room, but still somehow had its own distinct vibe. A long wooden table, the kind you’d expect in an old manor house, was surrounded by chairs made of dark polished wood. Above it hung an elegant light fixture. There was a a row of potted plants carefully arranged in front of the windowsill. A collection of orchids in every color imaginable, their petals contrasting with the deep green of the surrounding foliage, adding a splash of brightness to the space.
“You’ve got quite the green thumb,” Percy remarks, running my hand lightly over the petals of an orchid.
“Ah, that’s a work in progress,” Oliver says with a modest shrug. “But I’ve always loved the outdoors, you know? Quidditch helps with that—being out in the air, the wind, the rush of it all. These,” he motions to the plants, “are a little piece of nature to have inside.”
The kitchen, Percy soon discovered, was equally as stunning—sleek and modern, with an island counter and state-of-the-art muggle appliances (“I don’t actually know how to use them, but the realtor insisted!”)
As with the other rooms, it was decked out in plants. In every corner, on every countertop, the area potted herbs and climbing vines winding around metal trellises. A jade plant sits on the windowsill next to a large basil plant, both thriving in the sunlight.
We moved through a hallway that led to his guest room—a cozy, dimly lit room lined with shelves of books, many of them well-worn, with the faint scent of parchment lingering in the air. A tall, leafy palm stands proudly in the corner, tucked away on the other side of the room is large bed pushed up under the window. The bed is made neatly. Percy eyes Oliver who shrugs.
“I changed them when I knew you were coming.”
Finally, they reach Oliver’s bedroom. They only peer their heads ins, but it’s basically what Percy is expecting, comfortable with just the right touch of luxury. The bed is large, covered in a plush duvet with soft earth-toned pillows, there are a few more small plants near the bedside table, their delicate offering color against the warm-toned wood of the furniture. It was the kind of room that felt peaceful, yet full of energy. Percy loved it.
“I didn’t design anything; in case you’re wondering.” Oliver says when they make it back into the living room. ‘When I signed with Puddlemere, they had a relator and designer do everything. I just sort of moved in.”
“And planted a bunch.”
“And planted a bunch,” Oliver agrees, nodding sagely.
“Can we talk about Quidditch now?” Lucy asks. Oliver smiles down at Lucy, and there’s something in his expression that makes Percy’s heart leap. He seems so… happy. Like talking to Lucy wasn't a chore. Like it was something he was happy, even eager, to do.
“Sure thing, Lucy. Let’s talk Quidditch."